Caileagh Faoileag
by A Whisper Of Grace
Summary: The end of the Bitterbynde Trilogy rewritten in more detail


**AN: So now that I'm stuck back in the world of fanfiction I thought I'd go back and look at some other stuff I wrote, for other books. I figured I should have something more than just Twilight represented on my page. So this was the first old fic that I opened and lo and behold (I've always wanted to use that phrase) there's a guy named Edward in it. But I don't like this Edward, he steals from Avangar. Anyway, hope you like, not many people have heard of this but it's from the Bitterbynde trilogy, it's amazing, check it out.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of this, Cecilia Dart-Thornton has claim to all of it!**

**Caileagh Faoileag**

Ash looked at her reflection in the looking glass. ''Tis a beautiful dress, your highness,' praised the serving girl.

'Even so,' the bride said, smiling at herself. Still, in the back of her mind a memory came across her of a young woman named Caitri.

'_The House of D'Armancourt is an honest House by long reputation. I feel certain there have been no lies told you, yet there may have been many false impressions conveyed by omission. You were once betrothed to another.' Ash's sudden intake of breath hissed through her teeth. 'This other,' continued Caitri quickly, 'thought you dead when you were lost in the wilderness…'_

'…_He was the High King of the Faêran…Aye, ma'am, t'was the High King of the Land Beyond the Stars who loved thee. Can you tell me truly, that even now, even under the spell of the Bitterbynde Gate, you have not felt a hint of it?...'_

'…_You have been bewildered!'_

'Your highness? Lady Ash?'

Ash snapped out of her reverie. 'My mind wandered. What said you?'

'They be waiting for you, your highness.'

She followed the girl to the Hall, where she knew Edward to be waiting. 'Good luck, your highness, if I may say so,' the girl said, curtsying deeply. Ash just smiled.

The double doors opened, and Ash stepped forward into the Hall. A throng of people stared back at her, their applause deafening. She looked past them all and caught Edward's eye, and they shared a smile.

'_You have been bewildered!'_

She made her way through the Hall and curtsied before the King-Emperor. He bowed in return, then reached out his hand to her. She stepped forward and took it.

Silence enveloped the hall, and Edward turned his head to see what reason. Ash followed his lead, and her eyes fell upon a tall stranger, black of hair and terribly beautiful. Above him flew a white owl. They approached the King-Emperor and his bride, and both could only stare.

'Edward,' he said icily, staring down at the sovereign – for he was the taller. 'What hast thou done?'

Edward – paler than any ghost – fell to his knees. 'Pray forgive me, High Lord. Her memory –'

'…_there may have been many false impressions conveyed by omission…'_

'Silence!' The dark stranger demanded.

And there was silence. Then: 'Prithee take anything, Your Majesty. Anything of mine you wish. All I ask for is your forgiveness.'

The whole while, crowd and Ash alike stared at the tall man in their midst in wonder. His grey eyes had never left Edward, but a thread of memory – perhaps a thought – twisted into her mind.

_She knew him well enough to be aware that what appeared to interest him least actually intrigued him most – that his ostensible carelessness cloaked his prime focus. He was, in fact, conscious of her every movement._

'Anything? I ask a boon of thee, King-Emperor Edward IV. A single kiss given to this fair maiden Ashalind.'

His eyes turned presently to the bride. Out of the corner of her eye Ash saw Edward bow his head. 'So it shall be, Your Majesty.'

The stranger stepped closer to Ash. 'Doest thou know me, _ionmhuinn caileagh faoileag_?' His eyes sparkled.

Her memory tumbled on her like a giant wave crushing a nearby town. Ashalind, Elindor, Imrhien, Rohail, Tahquil, Ashalind.

Leodogran, Rhys, the Piper, Esgathair, Morragan, Grethet, Caitri, Mortier, Sianadh, Ethlinn, Liam, Muirne, Diarmid, Maeve One-Eye, Roxburgh, Ercildoune, Viviana, Dianella, Galan Arrowsmith, Tully, Whithiue, Tighnacomaire.

Sir Thorn of the Dainnan, James D'Armancourt XVI, Avangar, High King of the Faêran.

'I do,' she whispered, eyes wide. The Lagothe consumed her, but in her wonder it was like the tiniest itch. He bent his head to her, placed –

– _one hand gently under her chin and the other behind her head, and kissed her full on the mouth. Bolts like the Beithir's, only sweet as ecstasy, went through and through from head to toe, over and over, until she thought she must die; then he released her and –_

she felt herself change, and stared through different eyes to his new figure; a large eagle. She spread her wings – for wings she had now – and the two of them, joined by golden chain, followed the owl through the gaping hole in the ceiling that appeared to let them through, and were never seen again by mortal eyes.

They did not stop until they passed through the gate to Faêrie. As the door closed behind them – maybe for the last time, yet maybe not – they transformed to their original forms. The owl, Esgathair, was nowhere to be seen.

Angavar's arms enveloped her, his hair surrounding her like deepest night. She breathed in the cinnamon scent of him. 'Oh, how I missed thee,' she murmured.

'It is I who missed thee, fair _eudail._ Your seven Erith years passed in moments; my dreams seemed far longer.'

'I beg thee to forgive me for Edward. I knew naught of my past, naught of you.'

'There is nothing to forgive. It is Edward who is at fault, and for the sake of the mortal world I must forgive him, too. The High King of Faêrie's wrath is a harsh one, and despite my proclamation that Erith displayed no beauty for my eyes no longer, it is indeed a fair land when it chooses to be.'

'In all argument, Faêrie is fairer by far.'

'Even so. For that reason I would ask thee to rule beside me as the Queen of Faêrie.'

She pulled away far enough to search his eyes. They were true. 'I will. Thou must know I will.'

He smiled. 'I do know, but it hurts not to ask. As far as I knew, thou couldst have given thy heart away once more to some fortunate Dainnan, or a serving boy, or mayhap the boy who I feigned my son.'

'Thou feigned son apparent loved me.'

'It took thee so long to realise? Thou betrothed Edward's heart belonged to my _caileagh faoileag_ since thee first met with him.'

'I knew it, but I never kenned it to be as deep as to go to such lengths as to render me memory-less for his own gain.'

'Thee wouldst be shocked to know how many lie in awe of thee. Indeed, I am at the hight of the lists, closely followed by Edward, Ercildoune, the selkie Arrowsmith, and the Fithiach of Carnconnor.'

'The Raven? Nay, it cannot be, sir! He was never in love with me.'

'Do you doubt the truthful word of the Faêran?'

He was right; no Faêran could tell a direct lie. 'Thou claimed he awed me. Awe is not love.'

'Make no mistake, Ashalind na Pendran, Morragan was among those who loved thee. But none has ever or shall ever love thee as I do.'


End file.
